


Endeavour: Paean

by Parakeetist



Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: Constable - Freeform, Crime, Detectives, Diabetes, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Gout, Oxford, Police, Saving lives, Shooting, Suicide Attempt, Thames River, Workaholic, insulin, nervous breakdown, ulcer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parakeetist/pseuds/Parakeetist
Summary: Set after ‘Stars.’ Some time after the fifth season.Contains a couple of love scenes. Nothing too garish.I removed a couple of fact errors from the story.There is a scene in which one of the major characters attempts to take her own life. DO NOT COPYCAT. If you need help: https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlinesAn explanation of the title, a reference to the healing powers of the Greek god Apollo:https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/paeanThanks for reading.





	Endeavour: Paean

Endeavour: Paean  
by Parakeetist

 

  
Five weeks.  
  
Five weeks since that one night. The one that stayed on his mind.  
  
Endeavour reached over and put the walkie-talkie fob back in the holder. “Hope he comes out soon.”  
  
“Yeah,” Robbie Lewis said. He lifted his binoculars and focused on the rear edifice of the bank. A battered green car had wandered through the area twice. A car very much like it had been seen at a group of local robberies. If it came back a third time, they would prepare for the arrest.  
  
“Do you think you could get me some cof-” Robert said, then lifted up his binoculars in a hurry. “There’s the car.”  
  
“All right. Don’t fire until I say to.” Endeavour and Rob ducked out of the car and crept up the alleyway.  
  
The green car had parked somewhere. Rob spotted two people dressed in black. They were applying chain cutters to the rear door of the bank.  
  
Endeavour waited until the officers were just a few meters away from the crooks.  
  
“Drop those,” he said. “Police.”  
  
The two would-be thieves stared at the policemen. Morse and Lewis held up their pistols. With his other hand, Lewis took a flashlight from his belt, and shone it in the other men’s eyes.  
  
“Can we see your IDs?” one of the men whimpered.  
  
“Certainly,” Endeavour said, and showed them his card. Robbie did the same.  
  
Lewis stepped over and patted down one of the men. He found a gun, a knife, a heroin setup, and a clip of money.  
  
Morse walked up to the other man and held his gun right at his nose. He saw the man twitch. “Now would not be the time.” A search turned up two guns, and a vial of some drug. Probably heroin.  
  
  
Lewis read the men their rights, and put the cuffs on them. “You’re going for a ride.”  
  
The two men were crammed in the back seat. “I’ll turn this up,” Lewis said, and put the classical station on pretty loud. He was rewarded with the flicker of a grin on Morse’s face.

  
...  


  
Some time later, they finished booking in the thieves, and went to get drinks from the vending machine. “So, how’ve you been?”  
  
“Same,” Endeavour said.  
  
“Do you ever tell anybody anything?” Robert asked.  
  
Morse shook his head. Robert stepped back a few paces.  
  
Jim Strange walked up. “Just got word from the crew that’s been going over the car. Lot of interesting things in there. Burglars’ tools, pipe bombs, crowbars, the whole lot.”  
  
“That’ll be fun,” Rob said.  
  
“Any word from, ah, What’s-Her-Name?” Jim smiled wickedly at Endeavour.  
  
Morse blushed scarlet, and took a deep breath. “No,” he said.  
  
“So it’s been over a month since-” Jim could barely avoid giggling.  
  
Endeavour stepped right up to Jim’s face. “Let’s step outside and get some fresh air, shall we?” he said. He made a fist with one hand and popped it into the other palm.  
  
“Take it easy, Sparky,” Jim said. “I outweigh you by a few stone.”  
  
“I forgot to return my gun to the locker,” Endeavour said.  
  
“Is that so?” Strange said. “I just remembered I have to, ah, clean the toilets.” He walked away.  
  
Robert busied himself with retying his shoelace. Morse noticed.  
  
“It wasn’t untied.”  
  
“Uh, how do you know?”  
  
“Because you’re doing that for the second time in a row.”  
  
“Let me stop, then.”  
  
“Do you know what I’m doing? Do you need to know?”  
  
“I don’t want to bother you.”  
  
“Do you know who she is?” Morse’s face was as red as a fresh stop sign.  
  
“I don’t need to. I am not the one who told him, if anybody did.”  
  
“You mean you don’t know?”  
  
“Not a word. Not a cell of whoever – she – is.”  
  
“Really?” Endeavour’s face returned to normal. “Well, ah, carry on, then.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Lewis went to his locker. He took out the shoe polish. “Can I have a few minutes to-”  
  
“Yes, yes, don’t worry about it.” Endeavour waved his hand.  
  
Then he walked down the hall and sat down to start his report. His backside hurt. He wiggled back and forth on the chair.  
  
  
He thought about putting grease on Jim’s chair, but decided against it. There would be other times for appropriate punishment.  
  
The phone rang. Eagerly, he picked it up. “Hello, Miss-?” he said, hoping it was a certain black-haired woman.  
  
“No, it’s Mister,” DCI Thursday said.  
  
“Oh – sorry, sir,” Morse blurted out. “We picked up the two bank robbers just now.”  
  
“Yes, I heard. Good collar. Why don’t you step into my office for a minute?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Morse was there in a few minutes. “You wanted to speak to me?”  
  
“Indeed. My daughter just called. She said she took a test.”  
  
“Ah, for what?”  
  
“She said you would know.”  
  
  
Endeavour ran a finger around the collar of his shirt. He was thinking of that kind of test, the one involving a stick, and the plus or minus sign. He was also thinking about losing his job.  
  
“Ah, er, could you be a bit more specific?”  
  
“It was a test to be certified to assign children to adoptive parents. She got a perfect score.”  
  
“Oh. Very good, then.” His blood pressure dropped by a million points. Is she still at work?"  
  
“No, she quit her job.”  
  
“What? Well, why?”  
  
“Says someone had been giving her guff. I have an idea who it was.”  
  
“Not me, sir.”  
  
“Oh, I know that. Kindly send in Mr. Strange.”  
  
Blushing, Endeavour said, “Yes, sir,” and backed out of the room.

  
...  


  
Morse found Jim in the break room. “The DCI wants to see you.”  
  
“Did he burst into flames?”  
  
“Not yet. But he might.”  
  
“Oh?” Jim snickered again. “Let’s see what he wants.” He began to walk down the hall.  
  
“I wouldn’t be that happy, if I were you,” Morse called after him, but Strange did not turn around.

  
Strange walked into Thursday’s office. “Afternoon, sir.”  
  
“Close the door.”  
  
Jim did so. “What’s up?” He popped back and forth on his feet.  
  
“You might want to… wipe that smile off your face,” Fred said, and flashed a sarcastic smile.  
  
Strange did so. “Ah, what is this about?”  
  
“My daughter tells me you made some… jokes.”  
  
“Oh? I’ve been known to.” He smiled, not nearly as eager as he looked.  
  
“She said that you told her that she put criminals back on the street. The young ones she dealt with at her former job.”  
  
“Former? You mean she quit?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Um, it was, it was, intended for humor only, sir.”  
  
Thursday took out a truncheon from a cabinet. “I kept this from my days as a PC. See?” He held it up, and turned it so Jim could see the stains and small cuts in it.  
  
“Yes!” Strange said, with an unusually enthusiastic smile. “Looks like you know how to use it!”  
  
“I do. You will not continue with the comedy. Or I will smash it into your-”  
  
“Yes, sir! Immediately, sir!” Jim said.  
  
“You may want to get a hold of some deodorant soon. Sweat, and all.”  
  
“I will!”  
  
“You may go.”  
  
“Thank you!” Jim was out of there like a shot.

  
...  


  
Endeavour rose and twisted his body from side to side. He touched the small of his back. Then he got his coat, and went to use the restroom.  
  
On the way there, he felt a terrible clog in his stomach. Like something was coming up. He dashed for a stall and locked the door.  
  
A minute later, a PC walking down the hall heard screaming.  
  
Confused, he walked in. Endeavour was now leaning against a sink.  
  
“You have to call – please, I’m begging you-” He waved his hand at the stall. “Forgot to flush.”  
  
The officer looked in. The well of the toilet was covered in black clumps.  
  
He realized that it was blood.

  
...  


  
The PC propped up Endeavour as they both walked down the hall. “I’ll call as soon as I get you to a chair, sir.”  
  
“Fine. What’s your name?”  
  
“Aaron Gable, sir.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Gable put Endeavour in a chair. Morse leaned over and clutched his stomach.  
  
  
Strange walked up. “Did you forget to take your insulin?”  
  
“No, I don’t know what caused it.”  
  
“What is ‘it’?”  
  
“I threw up – threw up blood.”  
  
Jim’s jaw dropped. “Did someone call an ambulance yet?”  
  
“Yes, PC Gable did.”  
  
“I can’t give you anything right now. The medics will know what to do.”  
  
“All right.”

  
...  


  
Soon, the ambulance arrived. They took Morse out on a stretcher.  
  
Mr. Bright walked into the room. He just caught a glimpse of Endeavour leaving with the EMTs. “What’s going on? Why’s everyone look so nervous?”  
  
“DS Morse coughed up blood, sir,” Strange said.  
  
“Good Lord! I’m glad they took him! Does he have anyone we should call?”  
  
“We ought to tell Mr. Thursday. Mr. Morse is probably going to be out a few days.”  
  
“Surgery?”  
  
“I’ll bet, sir.”  
  
“Well! I’ll break the news.” He strode down the hall.

  
...  


  
Bright just caught Thursday before the DCI could leave. Fred was putting on his coat.  
  
“Yes?” Thursday said.  
  
“I’m afraid there’s some bad news. DS Morse has coughed up blood.”  
  
“No!” Thursday shouted. “Did they call an ambulance?”  
  
“Yes. They brought him right in. We do have good doctors in this town.”  
  
“Thank God. I have to call my wife. Well, I’m headed home anyway.”  
  
“Call her. She should know.”  
  
“Yes, sir. Then I’m leaving.”  
  
“Very good, DCI. Carry on.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Bright left. Fred picked up the phone. It rang a few times.  
  
“Hello?” Win said.  
  
“Win, honey, there’s something bad I have to tell you.”  
  
“Oh no, what is it?”  
  
“They had to take DS Morse to the hospital. He coughed up blood.”  
  
“No! Does he have pneumonia?”  
  
“I don’t know. He wasn’t sneezing or coughing today.”  
  
“Right. Well, I’ll light a candle for him in church.”  
  
“Good. I’ll be home before too long.”  
  
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll take care of calling Sam and Joan.”  
  
“Do that. See you, honey.”  
  
“Bye now.” She hung up.

  
...  


  
A half hour later, Fred pulled up in front of his house.  
  
“Home!” he called out. Winifred walked up.  
  
“Did you make the calls?” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.  
  
“Yes. They were both rattled, to say the least. Sam said he’s going to come in on the weekend. Joan is heading over right now, on the bus.”  
  
“Okay. Anything for dinner?”  
  
“Steak and soup.”  
  
“Oh, what soup?” he said, with a slight grin.  
  
“Broccoli and cheese.”  
  
“Sounds good.”

  
...  


  
Some time later, there was a knock on the door. Fred answered. It was Joan. “Come on in, honey.”  
  
“Thanks, Dad.”  
  
“You look like a ghost.”  
  
“Yeah. I got here as soon as I could.”  
  
“The superintendent told me we have good doctors in this town, and we certainly do.”  
  
“I’ll sit down.”  
  
“I’ll get you something to drink.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Joan sat on the couch. She stretched out her knees a couple of times.  
  
Her mother came in. “Hello, darling.” Joan stood up. They hugged.  
  
“Awful news about Morse.”  
  
“Isn’t it? I hope they do what they need to do.”  
  
“Surely.” Joan reached for her purse. “I wrote a get well card.”  
  
“Already?”  
  
  
“Yes, I stopped at the store before I came here.”  
  
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. We’ll drop it off in a few days.”  
  
“Yeah, Mom.”  
  
Winifred sat on the couch. Her daughter did as well. “This is a shock,” Win said. “Poor fellow already has the sugar.”  
  
“Yes. He has to lug his needles to work every day, and use them in the restroom.”  
  
Winifred shook her head and sighed. Fred walked back in the room.  
  
“I called the hospital. They say it could be at least two days before he’s ready to respond to calls. They have to do surgery.”  
  
“Any idea what the cause of the whole thing was?” Win asked.  
  
“No. We’ll learn later.”  
  
Win took a serviette from the table and dabbed her forehead. “I’ll get him a card as well.”  
  
“Fine. I’m going to get a drink.” Joan stood up.  
  
“None for me, thanks,” Fred said. “I need to keep sober for a while.”  
  
“Okay.” Joan went to the kitchen.  
  
“Don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” Win said.  
  
“Get in bed a little bit early.” Fred scratched his ear.  
  
“Oh, now you’re doing it too. I can see where young master Morse got it from.”  
  
“I taught him well.”  
  
“I’ll get a start on that sleep,” Win said. She got up. “See you.” She kissed Fred, and went upstairs.

  
...  


  
Morse woke up and groaned. He was under the influence of some powerful drugs, he knew. He remembered being checked into the hospital, but nothing else. He looked for the nurse signal button and pressed it. A woman in her late sixties came in.  
  
“You’ve been out for a while, young man,” she said.  
  
“What day is it?”  
  
“You came in on Tuesday. This is Thursday. You’ve already had your surgery. Before they let you out of here, the doctor has to teach you about your new medications. Be sure to take every one of them. As cute as you are, I don’t want to see you here again.”  
  
“Oh.” Morse blushed. “Well, thank you.”  
  
“Here’s some applesauce and hot cocoa. Enjoy.” She put them on the table next to his bed.  
  
“Thanks. Can I make a phone call?”  
  
“Yes. Need anything else?”  
  
“No. Thank you.”  
  
“All right, then. Press the button again if you need help.” She walked out.  
  
The phone rang. “I’ll be damned,” Endeavour muttered, and picked it up. “Hello?” he growled.  
  
“Hello, is this the right extension? They just put me through,” DCI Thursday said.  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“How are you, son? Did the operation go as planned?”  
  
“I’m very groggy with the sedatives, sir, but I’ll come around in a few days.”  
  
“Sure. Did they tell you what the cause was?”  
  
“Not yet. I’ll talk to the doctor.”  
  
“Good. I’m coming over. I’ll be there in less than an hour.”  
  
“I hope I’m awake to talk to you.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell the folk at the station.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.”  
  
“Bye now.” Thursday hung up.  
  
Endeavour twisted his shoulders back and forth. He pressed the nurse tab.  
  
“Yes?” the woman said.  
  
“Could you switch on the telly?”  
  
“Gladly. What channel?”  
  
“If they have a drama or ballet, that would be wonderful.”  
  
She flipped around the dial. “I’m sorry, sir. Only seems to be weather, race cars, a comedy, and the football.”  
  
“The last one, please.”  
  
“Something to drink?”  
  
“Water or orange juice.”  
  
“Orange juice, please.”  
  
“Yes.” She got some from a cart. “Here you go.” She put it on the table. “See you, then.” She left.  
  
He sipped the juice and watched the match. At the half, it was tied 1-1, between Oxford United and Swindon Town.  
  
Later, someone knocked on the door, and said something. He couldn’t make out the words.  
  
“What was that?” he called out.  
  
“May I come in?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Joan walked in. Endeavour smiled. “Good to see you,” he said, and shifted under the sheets.  
  
“Morning.” She put two cards on the little table next to the bed. “Do you feel any better?”  
  
“A bit. Congratulations on passing your exam.”  
  
“Oh, for the adoption certification? Thanks. I haven’t quit my job yet. Mrs. Law was happy I didn’t go to Leeds.”  
  
“Myself as well.”  
  
“I’m sure you’re getting some medication to take home.”  
  
“Yes. I can’t pronounce all the names.”  
  
“As long as you take them every day. Do you know where this came from? You're not out of shape.”  
  
"They say maybe my grandfather had it. Come here.”  
  
Joan crossed to the bedside. He pulled on her sleeve, inducing her to lean over.  
  
They kissed.  
  
“Wish you could climb in here with me,” he said.  
  
She blushed. “How long before we can-”  
  
“Four weeks. The longest of my life.”  
  
Joan blushed again. “I got you this.” She took from her purse a small teddy bear. “To help you remember me.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to forget.”  
  
For a third time, her face turned red. “I have to go now. My mother says hello.”  
  
“Hello back to her.” He stretched again.  
  
Joan waved and walked out.

  
...  


  
Not long afterward, Thursday arrived. “Hello, lad. Shame to see you laid out again.”  
  
“I hope this is the last time for a while.”  
  
“Me too. “Did you get any food in you?”  
  
“Just an IV drip so far.”  
  
“Hopefully they’ll bring you something solid. Did you read your cards?”  
  
“Yes. Very nice.”  
  
“Glad you liked them. My wife said to bring you these.” He put a box of sugarless jelly beans on the table. “In case your regular lunch is something bland.”  
  
“Thank you. It probably will be.” He stretched. “I can’t wait to get back home and see your daughter.”  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“Uh, I saw your daughter, very briefly.”  
  
“You do what the doctors say.”  
  
“I will. Yes, sir.”  
  
“Goodbye.” Thursday left.

  
...  


  
Fred obtained four weeks’ leave for Endeavour. The news made the rounds at the precinct.  
  
“Hope he can come back,” Jim said.  
  
“Yeah.” Robert sipped his coffee.  
  
“His girlfriend likes that.” Jim pointed to the cup. “He doesn’t at all.”  
  
“Oh? Who is she?”  
  
“See if you can pick them out of the forest of girls who have dumped him.” Jim adjusted his tie.  
  
“Please quit. The man’s not here to defend himself.”  
  
“I see. Touchy, eh.”  
  
“Better stop it, or I’ll touch something else.”  
  
“All right, matey, calm yourself...” Jim walked off.  
  
Robert went to Morse’s desk to retrieve some files. He noticed the detective’s stained tea mug, and took it to wash it out. Wouldn’t do to tick off the man when he came back, even in a small way.  
  
A civilian clerk, Jeanette Fisher, came by to hand out supplies. “I’ll take that,” Robert said, reaching over to take a tape dispenser.  
  
“You’re welcome. Played hockey over the weekend.”  
  
“Oh, are you in a league?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“When’s your next match?”  
  
“Saturday, at Miller Park. Ten a.m.”  
  
“I’ll have to go.”  
  
“Thanks.” She pushed the cart down the rows of desks.  
  
Jim strolled up. “Anything doing, Constable?”  
  
“Not yet. Are we having a welcome-back party for Mr. Morse, when the time comes?”  
  
“Yes. A cake and things. They told me to buy a sign, the kind with letters, you know. But it’s a month until then, so keep a good thought.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
Strange walked off. 

  
...  


  
Four weeks passed by. The day came for Morse to return to the precinct.  
  
He had spent most of the time sleeping, taking showers, listening to the stereo, and reading. His skin looked even more pale than usual.  
  
Strange noticed. “And there’s our ghost!” He applauded as Endeavour strode into the main room. The other officers stood up and did the same.  
  
Morse smiled weakly. “Hello.” He nodded.  
  
“Come into the break room! I want you to see how they’ve fixed it up.” Strange gestured down the hall.  
  
“I just got here. Shouldn’t a break wait ‘til later?”  
  
“Nah, come on. They really did a great job.” He walked to the room. The others came with him.  
  
The space grew crowded. “Surprise!” Jim said. The officers applauded.  
  
“Thank you,” Endeavour said. There was a cake on the table, and a sign that said ‘Welcome back.’ He took the knife from beside the cake, and cut the first slice.  
  
“Make a wish!” Jim said. “But don’t tell me what it is, or I’ll kill you.”  
  
“Okay.” Endeavour took a bite of dessert. “Pretty good.”  
  
“I got the low-sugar version,” Strange explained. “Seeing as you, you know.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
DCI Thursday came in. “What’s that? Looks delicious.” He took a piece. “This is good. Glad to see you back, young man.”  
  
“Thank you, sir. They haven’t sent me on a case yet.”  
  
“And they shouldn’t before the end of the day. Don’t want you to accumulate too much stress.”  
  
An announcement crackled over the speaker. “What was that?” Thursday said. “Anybody hear?”  
  
“No,” Strange said. “They’ll repeat it.”  
  
They did. “DS Morse to the front desk. DS Morse to the front desk. Immediately.”  
  
Morse put down his cake and ran to the front hall. “What is it?”  
  
“The bank robbers got out,” the desk officer said. “They were transferring them to another prison, and they made a break for it.”  
  
“I’ll go,” Endeavour said.  
  
“Take a gun,” the officer urged.  
  
“I will.”  
  
Morse went to his locker and got out the pistol. He strapped the holster to his belt.  
  
Just as he was running to the car park, another announcement came over the system. It did not make sense. Morse turned to a PC.  
  
“Did you catch that?”  
  
“Yes, sir. Suspects have been caught. You do not have to pick them up.”  
  
“That’s a relief.”  
  
Thursday found him. “Mr. Bright said you can go home, if you wish.”  
  
“So quickly?”  
  
“Yes, there are no major cases on the docket right now. Be off with you.”  
  
“All right. I’ll punch out.”  
  
He went to the ticket machine and punched his card. He slung his coat over one shoulder and went to the car.  
  
Endeavour had cranked the key and turned on the radio, when he saw someone he knew walking toward the station. “Miss Thursday!” he called.  
  
Joan walked toward him. “Hi.”  
  
“Get in.”  
  
She did. “I was coming to see if my father wanted to go to dinner.”  
  
“He’ll go home, I’m sure.” Morse pushed the gas. “We can pick up some food instead.”  
  
“Oh, thank you.”  
  
They drove along. Joan looked out the window. “I love the architecture here.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“Look at that church.” She pointed. They stopped at a light. He turned his head.  
  
“Not bad.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And the church looks good too.”  
  
“Oh, you.” She giggled.  
  
The light changed. He hit the gas again. Joan rested a hand on his leg, just above the knee.  
  
“Miss Thursday,” Endeavour said, “we have got to talk about your behavior.”  
  
They drove on. He turned into a side street.  
  
Shots rang out.  
  
“Get down!” Endeavour shouted, and drew his gun. He had forgotten to put it back before he left the station. He looked around, trying to find where the shots were coming from.  
  
The radio crackled. He picked up the fob. “Car 26 coming in. Shots fired.”  
  
“The bank robbers got out again.”  
  
“A second time today?”  
  
“Yes, sir. Be extremely careful. Get out of the area as soon as you can.”  
  
“Civilian in the car.”  
  
“Get out of there!” the dispatcher urged. Endeavour backed up and turned onto the main road.  
  
More gunfire peppered the air.  
  
“Don’t sit up,” he warned. “How did these people get here so quickly?”  
  
Joan whimpered and crouched as low as she could. She bit her lip.  
  
“I have to get out,” Endeavour said. “Stay right here. Don’t sit up. Don’t even scream.” He pushed the door open, shut it, and ran out.

  
...  


  
Crates and rubbish bins lined the alley. Morse crouched behind one and looked out. He couldn’t see the shooters, but he could hear them. He raised his pistol and pointed it in the direction of the last noise.  
  
A bullet zinged through the air. He screamed and dropped the gun. It bounced into the darkness.  
  
Now they could hear him. Another bullet zipped along. Where the hell was it? He scanned along the ground.  
  
The third bullet just missed his head. He heard steps. The shooters were certainly advancing toward the place where he hid.

  
...  


  
Joan crouched in the passenger seat. She wished Morse had a shield like the riot control officers did. If he lost his gun, he was down to fistfight skills. He might do all right with that.  
  
Then she heard Endeavour screaming. He had no one to help him.  
  
She picked up the radio fob. “Car 26, to the dispatcher. Over.”  
  
The voice came on. “Yes? Where are you?”  
  
  
“Silverton and 246th Street. We need backup. Two cars.”  
  
“Sending immediately. What else?”  
  
“Shots fired.”  
  
“Copy that. Are you the sergeant?”  
  
“No. I have to go.” She hung up the connector.  
  
Joan opened the door and bent low as she walked toward the alley. She went forward several meters. Her eyes began to scan the ground.  
  
Light glinted off a piece of metal in front of her. It was Morse’s gun. She picked it up. She popped out the loading cylinder and checked. There were still all six bullets inside.  
  
She pushed it back into place and gripped the handle with both hands.  
  
One man popped up behind a crate down the lane. She instantly fired at his neck. He put a hand to his throat and fell back.  
  
The other person ducked out from behind a rubbish bin on the right side of the alley. She aimed at his hat. He toppled immediately.  
  
She turned her head to the left. There were cries just audible from close to the wall. She crept over.  
  
“Hello?” she said.  
  
“I’m all right,” Morse said. He stood up. So did she. “Are they dead?”  
  
“I think so. I called for back-up.”  
  
“Thank God.”  
  
Joan walked around the bins. She saw both criminals’ bodies on the ground. She checked their pulses in turn.  
  
“They’re dead,” she said.  
  
Morse nodded. “Let’s wait at the car.”

  
...  


  
Hours later, Joan was taken to the station, to give her report. Morse was elsewhere. She thought they may have taken him to the hospital, to make sure he wasn’t in shock.  
  
She sat down in the interview room. A detective constable, Ed Fitzgerald, was across the table.  
  
“Right. Good evening, Miss Thursday. We are recording this interview. Do you have anything to ask before we begin?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Very well. Where were you earlier tonight?”  
  
She told the whole story. Ed came to the part where she picked up the gun.  
  
“Why did you retrieve DS Morse’s pistol?”  
  
“He dropped it.”  
  
“Why did you not give it back to him?”  
  
“I was acting in the heat of the moment. The suspects were shooting at us. When I say us, I mean myself and Mr. Morse could both have been hit. I acted in self-defense.”  
  
“Did anyone else, other than Mr. Morse and the suspects, see you at the time?”  
  
“No. I don’t believe so.”  
  
“Did you hear anyone else at the time?”  
  
“No. I was thinking about the shooters.”  
  
Fitzgerald finished writing the statement, and passed it to her. “Sign and put the date at the bottom.”  
  
Joan did so, and gave him back the pen. “When will I hear when they have decided whether or not to levy charges?”  
  
“Tomorrow morning. We’ll give all the information to the Crown office and let them take it from there.”  
  
“Thank you. Am I free to go?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Thank you.” She picked up her purse and left.

  
...  


  
Joan arrived at her flat. She hung up her coat and put her purse on the table in her room. She changed into a nightgown, got under the covers, and was immediately asleep.  
  
The next morning, she awoke a few minutes early. The phone rang.  
  
“Hello?” Ms. Thursday said.  
  
“Yes, this is Melvin Lyons, from the Crown office. Is this Miss Joan Thursday?”  
  
“Yes, this is she.”  
  
“It is the decision of this office that there will be no criminal charges filed against you or Detective Sergeant Morse.”  
  
“Thank you. That’s wonderful. Anything else?”  
  
“No. Good day.” He hung up.  
  
Joan heaved a sigh of relief and took a shower. She dressed and went out.

  
Endeavour walked into the precinct. A round of applause broke out.  
  
“Hey, look who’s here! Boasting of his shooting abilities and all!” Jim led the clapping.  
  
“I dropped the gun,” Morse said. “And I didn’t boast.”  
  
Robert Lewis stepped up. “Sir. Good you emerged unscathed.”  
  
“That’s because I didn’t do anything. What is this?” Morse looked around, highly puzzled.  
  
“No shame in being a good shot,” Strange said. “Did you want to show us how you did it? We can all go to the range.”  
  
“But I did nothing. It was really Miss Thursday.” He looked around at the different faces. “Why don’t you believe me. Is she here?” He smiled.  
  
“I don’t know what you heard, man.” Jim tapped his foot. “If you don’t come with us and get mad raving drunk after work, I’ll say you’re a girl.”  
  
“Careful. I know some women who could make you look like a teetotaler.” Endeavour played with his right ear.  
  
“Yeah, she’s not here, is she?” Jim smiled. Endeavour winced.  
  
“Back to work, everyone.” Morse looked around again. The officers grumbled and went back to their workstations.  
  
Everyone but Jim, that is. “Don’t tell me you didn’t brag about yourself when you told Thursday. You should be getting an award.”  
  
“It was Miss Thursday. How many times do I have to tell you?”  
  
“Everyone knows female officers don’t get into gunfights. And she’s not even a policewoman.”  
  
“She was a good shot! Who cares if she’s not on the force? And I might ask her to join, for all that.”  
  
Jim snickered. “You just keep up with that, boy.”  
  
“I’m a man!”  
  
Strange walked away. Morse stared after him.

  
...  


  
Thirty days went by. Life rumbled along. 

  
...  


  
  
By this time, Joan had found a new job, at a law firm. She found it dull, but kept showing up every day.  
  
Except for the next day.  
  
At the end of the shift, Joan left her office. She took the bus to a little park next to the Thames.  
  
She dropped her purse on a bench, and climbed up on a wall that ran down the edge of the strand. She stood there and stared at the flowing water. There were bits of garbage, sticks, and birds bobbing along. She began to count the seagulls.  
  
A man across the street called to her. “Lady, don’t do that! Don’t!”  
  
Joan turned around. The man waved his arms back and forth. “It’s not worth it!” he said. Ms. Thursday turned her head and kept walking.  
  
She held out her arms and gently moved them up and down, as she needed to, for balance.  
  
The man went back in his house and called the police.

  
...  


Endeavour put on his coat and clocked out at the card machine. He put his card back in the holder, and walked out to the car park.  
  
Over the past month, he had regrown a short beard. He stroked it as he got in the car.  
  
Morse cranked the engine. The classical station was on. He did not know the name of the piece. This was a rarity for him. In such situations, he liked to figure out the title before they announced it. “Berwald? Reger?” he said.  
  
The police band radio crackled to life. “Units respond, please,” the dispatcher said.  
  
Endeavour picked up the radio fob. “Car 26 here.”  
  
“A suicidal woman is standing on a wall down by the Thames. She hasn’t jumped yet. She is walking down the wall.”  
  
“Do I have to? Why don’t people shoot themselves, or take poison anymore?”  
  
There was a pause on the end of the line, then: “Why did you say that? For pity’s sake, man, why did you say that?”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“You are not. What rank are you?”  
  
“I’m a Detective Sergeant.”  
  
“You are obligated to help her. Get out there before I report you.”  
  
“Ah-” Morse began to sweat.  
  
“Never mind. Someone else will take the call. Over.” The man terminated the transmission.

  
...  


  
  
Endeavour stared at the radio. He couldn’t comprehend what he had heard.  
  
The least of his worries was now the conduct complaint which would undoubtedly be filed. What about that poor woman? What if she were already dead?  
  
The blood was on his hands.  
  
He had never refused to take a case before. He had easier times with some cases than others, as was to be expected, bit he had never flat-out said no. And now time was up.  
That lady was already in the water. Floating down the river. His stomach began to roil.  
  
What did he value more, his job or his honor? Was Joan right about him, that he loved his job more than any person? That he and Mr. Thursday were ‘married’ already? She used to say those things, but now he wasn’t sure she had been joking.  
  
He gripped the steering wheel and began to hyperventilate. 

  
...  


  
Morse drove to the station car park. For a long time, he stared at the door.  
  
At last, he walked in.  
  
He went to his desk and sat down. He put a piece of paper in the typewriter.  
  
Ten minutes later, he was done. It usually took him longer. He put the report in an envelope and left in on Mr. Bright’s desk.  
  
Endeavour walked to the soda machine and put in some coins. He pressed the button and waited for the can to pop out. He breathed heavily.  
  
He watched officers walk up and down the hall. This was the time for the evening shift. He recognized some of them.  
  
The can emerged. He opened it and took a swig.  
  
A PC walked past him. The man looked puzzled. He barely returned the gaze.  
  
Morse tossed the can in a bin. He stretched his fingers and went back to the car park. He started the vehicle. It took a few minutes to get it to work. He would have to have the clutch looked at. He moved into traffic.  
  
Endeavour got back to his house, and wrote a note about dropping off the car. He put away his coat and sorted the mail. Letters, bills, a card, and a rectangular package, filled with something soft. He opened it.  
  
Casual clothes. A t-shirt, a pair of short pants, and socks. He held them up against himself. They would fit.  
  
He flipped over the package to look at the return address. He snorted. One Miss Thursday. He would have to thank her sometime.  
  
Endeavour picked up the phone and dialed Fred Thursday’s home. Winifred answered.  
  
“Hello, who is this, please?”  
  
“Um, hello, Mrs. Thursday. Is the Inspector available?”  
  
“He went to the store, to get some supplies. Joanie just came home. She was soaked. I have no idea why she went swimming in her normal clothes. I always told her, take a bathing costume if you want to do that.”  
  
Endeavour ran a finger under the collar of his work shirt. “Ah, do you have a space heater?”  
  
“Yes. It’s running now.”  
  
He paused. “What is she eating?”  
  
“I gave her some soup. Tomato. She ate it. She’s dozing right now. I’m just watching telly.”  
  
Winifred turned her head and listened to a sound in the backroom. “I know, honey, I’ll get it for you.” She spoke to Endeavour again. “I’m going to make her tea with honey and lemon.”  
  
“I could use some too.” He smiled.  
  
“I’ll take her back to her flat later. The dress has to be sent to the cleaners. She put on a nightgown for now. She’s on the couch. I’ll just-” Winifred put her hand over the receiver. “What was that, honey? Okay.” She spoke to Endeavour again. “She said to tell you she’s fine.”  
  
“Did, ah, anything happen when she went swimming?”  
  
“She said the water smelled bad. The police dropped her home. They said they knew her father.”  
  
“Yes, Mrs. Thursday. I’ll let you go.”  
  
“Goodbye, then.” She hung up.  
  
He put his hands on the table and leaned down.

  
...  


  
Win went over to her daughter. “Are you feeling any better?”  
  
Joan opened her eyes. “Yes, Mom."  
  
“Why did you do that?”  
  
“It’s legal to swim in the Thames, Mom.”  
  
“But there were no lifeguards, you see. That’s why you should only swim where they have them.”  
  
“I’ll remember that for next time.” Joan pulled the blanket up to her chin. “They gave me a card with a warning about disorderly conduct.”  
  
“I’m glad you had the good sense to take it with you.” She heard the door open. “Oh, your father is here. Hello, Fred.”  
  
“Home! Got you the medicine, Joanie.” Her father brought her a bag from the chemist. He kissed Win on the cheek.  
  
“Thank you.” Joan sat up and took the medicine from it. Win got her some water. She took the pills and drank from the cup. “That’s better.”  
  
“I hope you don’t catch pneumonia,” her father said. “Watch yourself the next couple of days. Take hot showers.”  
  
“Yes, Dad.”  
  
“Now, if you feel up to it, do you want to watch the cricket with me?”  
  
“Sure, Dad.”  
  
Joan sat on the couch, while Winifred took a chair. Fred flipped on the TV and sat in his recliner.  
  
The match rambled on. There was a long discussion between the umpire and the batsman.  
  
“He should stop,” Fred said. “That never works.” Win harrumphed.  
  
Play went back to normal. The crowd cheered.  
  
A series of commercials played. Win got cupcakes out of the fridge. Joan picked at hers.  
  
“Eh, I’m worn out. Going to get a little early sleep,” Fred said. He went upstairs.  
  
“Me as well,” Win said, and kissed her daughter on the head. “Don’t stay up too late.”  
  
“Thanks.” Joan watched her walk upstairs.  
  
She scooped up a little more cupcake with her fork, and sat back.  
  
There was a knock on the door. She shut off the space heater and put it in the corner.  
  
It was Morse.  
  
After a moment, Joan said, “Why are you here?”  
  
“Can I come in?” he said.  
  
“All right,” she said. “You’ve grown it back,” she said, and pointed to his face. She opened the door wide, then closed it behind him.  
  
“Let’s sit down,” he said. He walked over to the couch. She followed him.  
  
“So?” she asked.  
  
“How are you doing?”  
  
“I was cold. Dried off, though.”  
  
“Good. I was worried there for a moment.”  
  
“Oh. Well, it was just a little dip. Mom’s right. I should have brought my costume.”  
  
He paused, then: “I know what really happened.”  
  
Her eyes went wide. After a moment, she said, “How, how do you-”  
  
“I was assigned the case. I should have gone, but I was rude to the dispatcher, and told him I didn’t want to go.”  
  
“How – how could you?” Tears began to run down her face.  
  
“I let you down.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I already turned in the report.”  
  
She covered her face with one hand and began to cry. “You were willing to let me - to let me die?”  
  
“I didn’t realize it was you until I spoke to your mother, on the phone. I heard about the woman who jumped, and I put two and two together.”  
  
She covered her mouth and sobbed. Panicking, he picked up some facial tissues and pressed them into her hand. “Don’t, that’s not necessary,” he said.  
  
“Of course it is, arsehole!” Joan bleated. She took a few deep breaths, then spoke again. “Know what’s the worst? I – I – killed two people, for the safety of the - ‘great British public’- and no one has said thank you. Not my father. Not you. Not the Chief of Police. Not a single human being has given me a reward, or a plaque, or flowers, or anything at all. No one recommended a psychiatrist. I saved * you.* You haven’t come by until tonight.”  
  
“Well, I, I – they made me work sixteen-hour shifts every day.”  
  
“For how many days?”  
  
“What’s that got to do with – oh.” He blushed bright red. “Just a month.”  
  
“Every day? All thirty?”  
  
“Yes, they did. I can show you my pay stubs. I’m getting extra for the overtime.”  
  
“Well, it is true about you, then. You do love your job more than anyone else.”  
  
“Not anyone else.” He looked her in the eyes.  
  
Then he leaned over and kissed her.  
  
After a moment, he stopped. “You’re not – moving,” he said.  
  
“If you don’t love me, I’ll have to learn to live with it.”  
  
“What? Who said that?”  
  
“You haven’t been over here in nine weeks. More than two months.”  
  
“I was trying to get to you. Believe me, I was.”  
  
“Why should I believe anything you say?”  
  
“Well, I should have some time off accumulated now.”  
  
“You never take time off. I know better.”  
  
“I’m going to!” He kissed her again.  
  
Joan put both hands on his shoulders and gently pushed. “Please leave.”  
  
He rose to his feet. “I, I-”  
  
Joan rushed up the staircase. He heard her shut the door to her room.  
  
Endeavour shook as he walked to his car. He stared at the dashboard for a minute before he turned the key.

  
Earlier than he usually started the day, Morse drove to the station. He walked down to the Personnel Department.  
  
“Hello, can somebody help me?”  
  
“Yes, Detective Sergeant,” said the WPC at the desk. “What do you need?”  
  
“I want to fill out the paperwork to take a holiday. I have considerable hours saved up.”  
  
“How many?” the policewoman smiled.  
  
“Sixteen years’ worth.”  
  
The woman’s eyebrows went up. “Goodness, sir. Here you go.”  
  
“Thank you.” Endeavour took a pen from a cup and sat down in a chair.  
  
Ten minutes later, he was finished. “What’s your name, Officer?” he asked.  
  
“WPC Olivia Niedermayer,” she said. “How much time are you taking off?”  
  
“Two weeks.”  
  
“Enjoy your holidays.”  
  
“Will do.” He turned and left.  
  
Endeavour strode down to Mr. Bright’s office. He knocked on the already open door.  
  
“Yes, Detective Sergeant?”  
  
“I’ve put in to take two weeks off, sir.”  
  
“I’ll put trainees on your cases. Do enjoy yourself. Going anywhere special?”  
  
“Don’t know. I’ll be home now.”  
  
“I’ll see you when you return.”  
  
Endeavour nodded and walked out. In the break room, he got a can of cola and a packet of corn crisps. He took both to the car.  
  
For some minutes, he drove with only a vague awareness of the traffic around him. He didn’t realize where he was until another driver honked him. He was ten kilometers out of his way.  
  
Morse took the next cross street and made his way back to his normal route. It had been a long time since he was this happy to reach home.  
  
As soon as he put away his jacket, he dashed to the bathroom. Endeavour did not even bother to gather clean clothes to change into. He just got out of his dirty ones and put them on the countertop. He turned up the temperature to very warm, and stepped into the water.  
  
When he was done, he put his underclothes back on, and took the rest of his outfit to the hamper. He got under the covers and turned over on his stomach.  
  
Morse flung his arms over his head. He’d have to get a haircut soon. Have to shave, tomorrow morning.  
  
Mumbling to himself, he fell asleep. 

  
...  


  
Endeavour got up to the sight of sunlight streaming through his window. He closed the blinds and trudged into the bathroom. He put shaving cream on his face and dragged the razor across it.  
  
In minutes, he was done. He washed off the remainders and used the aftershave. Joan had once joked with him about why men want to smell like pine trees. For the life of him, he didn’t know.  
  
Endeavour called the station. “Put me through to Mr. Bright, please?” he said when the desk officer answered the phone.  
  
“Yes. One moment.” The man transferred the call.  
  
“Superintendent Bright, may I help you?”  
  
“Good morning, sir. It’s DS Morse.”  
  
“Yes, what can I do for you?”  
  
“Did we decide to give any kind of commendation to Miss Thursday?”  
  
“Let me see.” He rummaged among the papers on his desk. “We should have a proclamation about it. It may be here with my messages… Yes, we had a note, a month ago. Unacceptable. Is she all right? Taking care of herself?”  
  
“Yes, she is.”  
  
“Can you ask her to come in tomorrow morning, at ten?”  
  
“I’ll do that, sir. Thank you for looking.”  
  
“Indeed. Good day.”  
  
“Goodbye.” Morse hung up.  
  
He made pancakes and drank a cup of milk. It wouldn’t do to call Ms. Thursday just now. She was probably still upset, and was at work nonetheless. He’d wait until afternoon.  
  
Endeavour put on an album and read ‘The Norton Review of American Literature.’ He never thought he would like it, but he did. He thought about visiting there. 

  
Joan clocked out at the office. “Good thing you decided not to move," the supervisor, Mrs. Thane, said. “You fit in here.”  
  
“I hope so.” Joan smiled. “Mind if I take a few candies?” She pointed to the dish on the woman’s desk.  
  
“That’s what they’re for! Have a good evening.”  
  
“You as well.” Joan took the candies and left.  
  
Thursday wished she could adopt children. She wasn’t married yet, and she didn’t have enough money. One day, maybe.  
  
She was afraid she might never get married. Joan hadn’t thought much about marriage, until Endeavour asked her. This was the one thing she had not told her parents.  
  
She stepped on the bus and put a few coins in the box. She took a seat.  
  
Joan looked out the window until they got to her stop. She stepped off and walked the last few blocks to her flat.  
  
She put away her things and set about making dinner. She was halfway through the plate of roast turkey when the phone rang.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“It’s Morse. Don’t hang up.”  
  
Joan sighed. “All right.”  
  
“I spoke to Mr. Bright about your lack of a commendation. He said you should come to the station tomorrow at ten a.m. I’ll drive, save you the bus fare.”  
  
“Well – okay. I’ll go.”  
  
“All right. See you.”  
  
“Thank you.” She hung up.  
  
Joan fed the fish. The little creatures swirled around the tank. Cheryl walked in.  
  
“Hi,” Fisk said. “Better day at the office, I see?”  
  
“You can read me like the newspaper. Tomorrow, I have to take off, to go to the police station.”  
  
“Are you under arrest?”  
  
“Fortunately, no. It’s to meet with the superintendent.”  
  
“Hope it’s good.”  
  
“Thanks.” Joan finished dinner and bought the plate to the sink.  
  
She went to her room and changed into casual clothes. Then she put the radio on, to a blues station, and picked up an issue of ‘Politics.’ She stretched out on the bed.  
  
“Hmm… MP for Oxford resigns, due to health concerns. Stand-in to take his place, until a new election can be held. Replacement will be… Gerry Gaston. A woman! You don’t see that around here very much. Even today.”  
  
She read more. At last, she grew so tired, she did not notice the magazine slipping out of her grasp. It fell to the floor. She snored away.

  
...  


  
Joan woke up and rubbed her eyes. She phoned the office to tell them she would be in a little later.  
  
She got dressed and sat there, waiting for Morse. Then she heard the honk of a car horn. It was indeed the familiar black car. She got in the passenger side.  
  
Endeavour drove for a few minutes. Joan thought there was something different about being in the car. Then she realized what it was. The radio wasn’t on.  
  
“Did you call a doctor?” Endeavour said. “For what happened?”  
  
“Yes. I’m going in on Tuesday. Took the entire day off.”  
  
“I’m out for two weeks.”  
  
“Oh.” She looked out the window.  
  
“Hey. Over here.” Endeavour smiled. “I may sleep most of the time, because of that month they made me work. Every day. All thirty. And sixteen-hour shifts. I was standing in for two other people who left the station.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Joan said, very softly.  
  
“Ah, okay.” Endeavour cleared his throat. “I have – something to talk to you about. It’ll have to wait until after the meeting with Mr. Bright.”  
  
“That’s fair.” She stretched out her legs and leaned her head back on the seat.  
  
They stopped at a light. It was red a very long time.  
  
“Must be malfunctioning today,” Joan said.  
  
“Yes.” Endeavour looked out the window at the light.  
  
Then he turned to face her. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call at least once during the time I was working extra shifts. What you did was very brave. Thank you.”  
  
“All right,” Joan said.  
  
“I still don’t know how you managed that. Have you ever shot a gun before?”  
  
“A few times, at the range.”  
  
“Well.” At last, he put on the radio. Music filled the space. Joan thought the piece was rather nice.  
  
He pulled up in the car park. They went into the station.  
  
Mr. Bright was waiting in the main room. Geraldine Gaston, the substitute MP, stood next to him. She was in her early sixties and had white-blonde curly hair. “You’re here,”  
Bright said. “Good. Let’s go to the conference room.”  
  
The four of them entered the large room. Bright and Gaston stood at the front. Joan and Endeavour waited a few meters away. “A month ago, in an act of extraordinary bravery, Ms. Joan Thursday retrieved the pistol dropped by DS Morse, and returned fire against two gunmen who were hiding in an alley. Her actions saved the life of DS Morse. It is for this reason that the Thames Valley Police are proud to present Ms. Thursday with the Terence Haney Award, which is given to civilians who distinguish themselves in assistance to our officers. Come forward.”  
  
He picked up a plaque and held it out to Joan. She smiled and stepped up. Gaston held out a small badge, shaped like a chevron, with a heraldic logo on it.  
  
“This is for you,” Geraldine said. “Wear it with pride.” Joan smiled.  
  
“Hang on here,” Bright said. “I’ve got a camera.” He held it up. Joan lifted her hands, and Reginald took the shot. “Very good. Thank you for your attendance, Mrs. Gaston.”  
  
“You’re welcome. Here is a gift for you, by the way." She handed Joan an envelope. "I must visit the fire station and present them with a newly adopted Dalmatian, next. I am off to the shelter. I’ll be seeing all of you. I’ll see myself out.” She shook hands with everyone in the room, and left.  
  
“Have you started your leave yet, Morse?” Bright asked.  
  
“Yes, sir. Don’t know where I’ll be headed.”  
  
“The southwest is said to be nice this time of year.”  
  
“I’ll consider that.”  
  
“Dismissed.” Bright walked out. Joan and Endeavour followed.  
  
They stopped in the break room. Morse got a candy bar out of the snack machine. “I’m learning to like these things, you know, as a temporary treatment.”  
  
“Caramel,” Joan said, taking note of the label.  
  
“When you get out of work, give me a call,” he said.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I’ll drop you off.” He walked with her to the car park.  
  
They got back on the road. When they arrived at her office, he pulled over and opened the door for her. She got out.  
  
He leaned over and kissed her.  
  
It went on for some time. A man walking by stared at them.  
  
Morse broke it off. “See you.” He got in the car and drove off.

  
Joan worked an hour late, to make up for the difference. She went to three court hearings, came back, and made her reports. Her hands were aching from typing, by the end.  
  
She handed the reports to Mrs. Law. “Here you are, ma’am.”  
  
“No typos?”  
  
“None that I remember.”  
  
“I’m just kidding. I’m sure they’re fine. Now, when are you going to bring over that nice Mr. Morris again?”  
  
“Do you mean the Detective Sergeant?”  
  
“Yes, him. Why don’t the two of you go to the boat races?” She handed Joan a flier with a picture of rowboats and some information on it.  
  
“Thanks. See you,” Thursday said. She picked up her things and went to the phone. She called Endeavour at his desk.  
  
“Morse?”  
  
“Hello, I’m ready to go.”  
  
“I’ll pick you up.”  
  
“Thanks. See you later.” She hung up.  
  
Joan went outside and sat on a bench. It was the end of the day for almost all functions at the government building, and a considerable number of people headed toward the car park or the bus stop. Thursday occupied her time watching the birds flit in and out of the trees.  
  
A man in his early forties walked up to her. He was wearing a brown overcoat and slacks. “I notice you don’t have anything to do,” he said. “Fancy coming with me?”  
  
Joan blinked, in shock that this man should be so brash right off the bat. “Excuse me, I have someone picking me up.”  
  
“You’d be welcome at my suite. Plenty of bubbly, and pink foam in the hot tub.”  
  
This man was disgusting. She wished Morse would get here already. “No. Not interested.”  
  
“Can I pay you?” He took out his wallet.  
  
Joan stood up, stark anger on her face. “Now you listen-”  
  
“Hey.” All of a sudden, Morse walked up. “Pleasure to meet you, Mister-?”  
  
He took out his police ID and showed it to the man. Overcoat Guy backed up.  
  
“Hang on, I wasn’t-” He turned and scurried away.  
  
Joan let out a deep breath. “Thank goodness you came up just then. I thought I would have to kung-fu him in the neck.”  
  
“Good for you,” Morse said. They walked to his car.  
  
The vehicle shuddered as Morse turned the key. “Have to remember to get this looked at,” he said. At last the engine kicked in. “There we go.” He headed onto the street.  
  
As they pulled up to a light, he said, “I have to talk to you about something.”  
  
“All right,” she said.  
  
He put on the radio. They turned onto a long stretch of road.  
  
At last, they pulled up in front of his house. He opened the door.  
  
Joan sat in the living room, while Endeavour went into the kitchen and fixed them dinner. He set out two plates of noodles with curry sauce and vegetables.  
  
“I’m out of wine. You’ll have to be satisfied with fruit juice,” he said.  
  
“Oh, that’s okay, I’m easy to-” She snorted. He smirked. “What did you bring me here to talk about?”  
  
“Well, thank you for the clothing, first. But really - the other day,” he said, and fixed her with a serious look. “When you went for a swim.”  
  
“Oh. Yes.” Her face fell.  
  
“Did you not think to call your parents? They could have picked you up. Had you succeeded, it would have destroyed them.”  
  
“I know that now. I just wasn’t thinking at the time.”  
  
“What led you to even try?”  
  
“I guess it’s obvious.”  
  
“It is not.”  
  
“I thought you-” She stopped.  
  
“Go on?” he said.  
  
“Didn’t want to be with me anymore. You were at work so much.”  
  
“Is that really what people say about me? That I love my job more than I love anyone else?”  
  
“That’s what I’ve heard.”  
  
He frowned. “Go on.”  
  
“I thought it would be over with quickly. That it wouldn’t hurt.”  
  
“It would have killed me!” he shouted.  
  
Joan stared at him for a moment. “I’m just not as strong as my mother. She could put up with my father’s changing work schedule. I could not. I thought you were trying to get away from me.”  
  
“Away from – who even says this?”  
  
“I couldn’t get you on the phone. I drew my own conclusions.”  
  
“Didn’t you think to leave me a message at the office?”  
  
“I did, a couple of times.”  
  
“Damn!” He slapped the table, and looked off to the side. “How did I not catch them? That’s what happened to Mr. Bright, with the message about your commendation.” He looked at her again. “Well.”  
  
“I took one of those tests. The kind where you use a stick.”  
  
He blinked. “Oh?”  
  
“Negative.”  
  
He sighed heavily. “Thank you.”  
  
“Do you think you might, um, want a family one day?”  
  
“Don’t know. It depends.”  
  
“On?”  
  
“I’m afraid to bring them into the world.”  
  
“Oh.” She frowned briefly. “I would like some help...”  
  
He fidgeted on the chair.  
  
She finished her food. “Thank you, that was lovely. I’ll have to invite you to my flat soon, to make up for it.” She bought her dish and glass to the sink. “That weirdo tonight. I’m so glad you scared him away.”  
  
“Just doing my job.”  
  
“MP Gaston gave me a gift. I got a hundred pounds.”  
  
“A hundred? Did you put it in the bank yet?”  
  
“No, not yet.”  
  
“All right, we’ll put it in the bank first thing in the morning.”  
  
She blushed, knowing what he had just implied. “Um, could I get a quick shower? I feel so dirty after that man harassed me.”  
  
“Sure. There should be towels. Let me get you a robe.” He went into his room and fetched the bathrobe.  
  
“Thank you.” She got up and walked into the bathroom.  
  
There was the hiss of warm water coming down. He went to the bathroom door. It was a sin. He could not stop. He went up to the rim of the door and prayed she forgotten to lock it.  
  
She had.  
  
His breath became very shallow. He peered through the opening. Joan was naked. She put her hand in the stream of water, to test whether it was hot enough. She stepped in and pulled the curtain closed.  
  
He breathed out, all at once, as if stepping out of a sauna. He moved a few steps away, into the corridor, so she would not notice when she came out.  
  
Minutes later, she opened the door. She had put her regular clothes back on.  
  
Endeavour stepped up to her. He held out his arms and pressed her gently into the wall.  
  
He kissed her. She closed her eyes.  
  
Then they were on the floor. He put a hand between her knees. He kissed her again.  
  
All of a sudden, Morse picked her up. He pulled her into the bedroom. There was a little light streaming through the window. He placed her on the bed. Morse went in the drawer of the little table and retrieved his protection.  
  
He worked slowly. Suddenly, he could not see or hear her. He continued to move.  
  
There was a white light in his head. He shook until she scratched his back, and then eased up.  
  
Afterward, he lay beside her. “Are you okay?” Joan said. “I’m worried.” She stroked the hair away from his ears.  
  
“Didn’t die,” he said. He turned and threw the protection in the trash.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I could see – something.”  
  
“Really?” She was puzzled. “Tell me.”  
  
“My mind went white. Like snow. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear. They say going blind is another effect of diabetes.”  
  
“Was it something I did?”  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“Can I get you some aspirin?” She stood up and pulled the blanket around herself, leaving him with the top sheet. Joan went into the bathroom. She came back with two pills and a cup of water.  
  
He took them. “Thank you.” He stretched and wiggled under the sheet. She put the blanket back in place. “I’ve got two weeks off. Come and see me every day after work.”  
  
“I could put in for a couple weeks’ holiday myself.”  
  
“That’s something.” He turned on his side and cupped her cheek.  
  
“I’d hate to think I made you afraid. That you wouldn’t want to – be with me anymore.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Do you want to go to the doctor? I don’t want to be responsible for, ah, killing you.”  
  
“Under these circumstances, I wouldn’t mind that at all.” He smiled.  
  
“I need to go to the doctor as well. I don’t want to fight this alone.”  
  
"Do go. But you have me as well.” Endeavour kissed her eyelids. “I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.”  
  
She sighed. “Get some rest.” She hunched in next to his side.  
  
“Don’t leave before I get up in the morning.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He nestled his head into the crook of her shoulder.

THE END


End file.
